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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601253">A Klingon's Confession</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaan/pseuds/zaan'>zaan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Humour, M/M, Rarepair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:00:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaan/pseuds/zaan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jadzia catches Worf admiring a certain doctor</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jadzia Dax/Worf, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, implied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Klingon's Confession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHW/gifts">DHW</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by a tumblr post by DHW and comments from ConceptaDecency</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Worf's gaze was discreet (for a Klingon) and no match for a Trill's observational skills. Jadzia tracked his gaze to the holosuites where one Julian Bashir and one Elim Garak were emerging from some type of sports or training program, given their attire.  She let her own eyes linger appreciatively.  Julian was wearing a tank and a pair of snug shorts.  His hair was tousled and his skin shone from the exertion.  Garak was dressed in a much more modest ensemble but she was nevertheless able to note and appreciate the line of hard muscles beneath. </p><p>She and Worf continued to Quark's.  Jadzia eyed Worf over her Samarian Sunset.  "So, Julian, eh?" she teased</p><p>Worf frowned and drank his prune juice.  "I don't know what you mean."</p><p>"I mean Julian in his little short shorts."</p><p>"I did not notice his attire."</p><p>"You know, I think he has a bit of a thing for you too," she winked.</p><p>Worf growled.  "I do <em>not</em> have a thing for Doctor Bashir."</p><p>"Worf, I <em>saw</em> you looking."</p><p>"Doctor Bashir," said Worf with an air of offended dignity, "Is too thin.  He has baby giraffe legs."</p><p>Jadzia raised and eyebrow.</p><p>"An ungainly, long-legged creature from Earth."</p><p>Jadzia considered her boyfriend carefully. Despite his insistence on honour he was, like most people, willing to lie when he was embarrassed by something.  Only she didn't think he <em>was</em> lying.  Yes, he had been looking - but it had not been the slight distaste she now saw in his eyes.  But if he hadn't been looking at Julian ...</p><p>She choked on her drink, sputtering out a spray of alcohol and glee.  "You were looking at Garak!!!"</p><p>"Jadzia," Worf hissed, "Keep your voice down."</p><p>Jadzia noticed he hadn't denied the accusation.  She laughed and laughed while Worf flushed and burned in embarrassment.  For him to like a Cardassian, for him to like Garak!  And yet, the more she thought about it the more sense it made.  Worf was – well, repressed.  He liked his partners to be strong warriors but, more than that, he was drawn to people who were exuberant, brash, fun, irreverent.  That description fit Garak to a T.  He was, in fact, exactly Worf's type.</p><p>"Don't worry," she said, taking pity on Worf and laying her hand over his.  "Your secret is safe with me."</p><p>"Thank you," he replied.  He knew Jadzia would not embarrass him and yet .... there was that certain amused <em>look </em>in her eye that spoke of unmade plans, a look he had learned to grow wary of.</p><p>Jadzia, meanwhile, was thinking about a whole world of new possibilities.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The baby giraffe legs is from a great Garashir fic To The Island (although I don't remember now if it originated in or quoted in that fic)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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